a diamond day.

i used to think that standing upside down was the most relaxing way to perceive the world; that cycling was the most playful way to glide through nature; that walking was the most intimate form of play.

then i lived a diamond day.

a day filled with a bluebird sky and a jeweled sun, curated crisp powder and quenching fresh mountain air. with the calming guidance of an elite alpine brit i was guided down a run fittingly called ‘far out’ for at one point on the slope i turned a bend and stopped to cry out. not because i lost balance or i was fearful; but because there, amongst white serenity, i had come to the rock’s edge. looking out at sunkissed snowcaps against a perfect crayola-hued sky any remaining reservation rolled away. i was atop of something beautiful–elevated to an altitude in life that i had been deeply longing for in these dreary, hibernated months.

coming down in slow wedged strides i stood alone in the middle of the village to revel in my newfound rocky mountain high. standing there in solitude i could feel myself smiling, radiantly glowing for i had discovered a joy bundled with elated euphoria. an epiphany of sorts that was powerful enough to move this emotional silver star.

it might be a frozen tundra out there but go on, warm your heart and get out there to play.